


Statues

by Northern_Lady



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Class Differences, Combat, Dress Up, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I really love my OC, Isolation, Jealousy, Little Black Dress, Loneliness, Mutant Powers, Panic Attacks, Precognition, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Wolverine - Freeform, Xavier Institute, mostly romance, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6415387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Lady/pseuds/Northern_Lady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They call me Medusa. I’m not a Greek goddess. I’m just a mutant. And like so many of us, the ones that don’t get to be the heroes, I hate my powers. My powers have granted me a long life that keeps me looking young and the ability to become wealthy by creating any kind of stone or mineral that I want. But the powers have been a curse as well. I can not touch any living thing with my bare skin or it will slowly turn to stone and die. And thus, I am always alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They call me Medusa. I’m not a Greek goddess. I’m just a mutant. And like so many of us, the ones that don’t get to be the heroes, I hate my powers. My powers have granted me a long life that keeps me looking young and the ability to become wealthy by creating any kind of stone or mineral that I want. But the powers have been a curse as well. I can not touch any living thing with my bare skin or it will slowly turn to stone and die. And thus, I am always alone. 

I live in a thirty room house on the coast of Maine. It is a lovely house with a view of the ocean. I have all the best clothes and designer shoes. I never wear them but I have them. I have so much jewelry that I have filled a vault with it in my cellar. No one knows about that vault. I would happily give away all the jewelry I own if it would help some hungry person somewhere in the world. But I can’t do that anymore. Sixty years ago it was easy. I needed to only touch an insect or a mouse and turn it to the stone of my choosing. Well, not entirely of my choosing. I’ve never been so good with diamonds and emeralds or gold. I can make Jade, Agate, and Turquoise quite easily though and with a little effort I can make silver. After I made them, I would sell the stone and give away any money that I didn’t need. Except that I was eventually discovered by government programs that were keeping watch on mutants. My stones were unique and could be traced back to me. These days I have to be very careful about using my powers. I am dangerous. I don’t want to be locked away. 

I am afraid to have friends or even household staff to care for my big house. There have been too many accidents. I wear gloves but even that is not a guarantee. Gloves can break. Or some unsuspecting person might touch my face or my arm. Once I touch someone there is nothing I can do to stop their transformation. All I can do is watch, over the course of about four minutes, as they scream in agony, turn to stone, and die. I’m not willing to ever watch someone I love die like that. So I have remained alone for many years. I don’t go out of the house. My groceries are delivered to my home by a person I have never actually seen. I leave an envelope of money for him under the welcome mat. I have tons of cash from years ago when no one was tracing my powers. I’m sure the delivery boy wonders why the money is so old. I’m sure the neighbors wonder why the crazy woman never comes out of her house. Sometimes neighborhood kids try to sneak into my house. They seem to believe it’s haunted or that I’m not a real person. I make sure to terrify them into never coming back. I won’t be the cause of their accidental death. I’d rather they were afraid of me. 

Some days I don’t want to live at all. Most days actually, I don’t want to live at all. But that’s the other problem with my powers. I can’t seem to die. I have tried on several occasions to end it all. I healed from the knife to my wrist, from the gunshot wound, from drowning in the bathtub, and from an overdose of pills. I remember just screaming in agony after each of those incidents. I didn’t want to still be alive. There was nothing to live for. There still isn’t. 

*******************************

My thoughts are pulled from the pages of the book I am reading to the sound of knocking at my front door. No one in this town comes to visit me. They know better. They know that I will not answer the door. That I will call the police to be rid of them if I have to. Whoever is knocking doesn’t know this about me. Warily I go to the door and stand there in front of it, trying to decide what to say. I haven’t spoken to an actual person in weeks. Not since one of the neighbor kids hit a baseball into my backyard. It’s very difficult to remember how to be social when I have been alone for so long. 

“Rosa Preston? We know you’re in there.” Says friendly sounding man with a British accent. “We just want to talk to you. We don’t mean you any harm.” 

“I don’t accept visitors.” I finally find the words I have been looking for. “You need to leave.” 

“Please, we’ll only take a moment of your time.” The man says. “I am Charles Xavier. I come from a school for mutants, perhaps you’ve heard of it?” 

I have heard of this school for mutants. I saw something about it in the newspaper. I wasn’t impressed. It honestly sounded dangerous to have so many mutants in one place like that. Dangerous for the humans we could accidently hurt and dangerous for the mutants to be so public about their location. “You really need to leave.” I tell him a second time. 

“If you won’t open your door, my friend Logan here is going to open it for me. It is vitally important that we talk to you.” Charles says. 

“Fine. Then talk from out there.” I say. I don’t want to call the police on fellow mutant, mostly because I don’t know how much they might resist arrest. I don’t want to see any more humans get hurt. 

“Perhaps you could come to the window?” Charles asks. 

With a sigh, I move to the window to the left of the door. I pull back the drapes, letting in a flood of sunlight. I unlock the window and open it, then slide a chair up and sit where I can see out. 

“Thank you.” Charles says. He is in a wheelchair and has rolled it to his own space in front of the window on my porch. 

The man standing next to him, Logan I assume, has taken a stance leaning against one of the wooden pillars holding up the roof. His arms are crossed. He has a bored uncaring attitude about him. 

“We came to talk to you about your gifts.” Charles goes on. “I have a machine that helps me to find all the mutants in the world. Your gifts are…” 

“They aren’t gifts.” I say, raising my hands to shut the window and end this entire stupid conversation. Anyone who would call being a mutant a gift is insane.  
“Wait!” Charles says and for some reason I stop. “Many of our kind dislike their powers. You wouldn’t be the first. Tell us, what is that you can do?” 

“I can kill people.” I tell him bitterly and this time I really do shut the window. 

“Logan we need her.” I hear Charles say from outside. 

“She ain’t interested. We can’t recruit someone who doesn’t want to be recruited.” Logan says. 

“I know, but if the rumors about her powers are true, she could be a great asset.” Charles says. 

“We’ll just have to come back again tomorrow.” Charles says disappointed. “And the day after that and after that...persistence is the key.” 

“Maybe, but don’t you have that speech to give tomorrow?” Logan says as they move towards the steps. Logan lifts Charles down the two steps and sets him down on the flat patio stones at the bottom. 

“Yes. You’re right I do. I’ll need you to stay in the area Logan and try a little longer to get Rosa to talk to you.” Charles says as he rolls his chair away. 

“How long is a little longer?” Logan asks. 

“As long as it takes.” Charles says as they head toward the van parked at the end of my drive. 

***********************

I am reading a new book that had just arrived in the mail when a knock sounds on my door for the second day in a row. I had really hoped that Logan would not come back again. I struggle to think of something incredibly rude or disturbing that I can do to convince him to go away. I’ve had to be creative to get rid a visitors a few times in the past. I once went to the door covered in fake blood and my visitor ran away screaming. Logan doesn’t seem like the type to be frightened away by the sight of blood. 

I set the book aside and get up from my easy chair. I pace back and forth between the front door and the coat rack, trying to think of what to do next. Suddenly I have an idea. I’ll just try to sound crazy. That should scare him off.

“It’s not a good time.” I shout out at the door. “I’m busy...I’m busy making spider pies! Go away!” 

“Did you just say spider pies?’ He calls from on the porch. He sounds confused. Good. This is working. 

“No, not spider pies you imbecile.” I say, using my best maniacal witch voice. “I am weaving a web of lies! Now be gone before you are caught in the web!” 

There is only silence outside. I hear a sigh. “What the hell are you thinking Charles?” He mumbles. 

“Yes, yes, go back to Charles.” I say, trying to keep up the ruse. “Tell him that I don’t need to be born again, I have the power of the great goddess. She will sustain me that I may be reborn.” 

“Uh huh.” Logan says. “How about you just cut out the act and talk to me like a normal person?” 

Great. Maybe this isn’t working so well as I had thought. “You must leave.” I plunge on anyway. “You must leave. They are coming! The green men… they are coming…” 

“You know what?” Logan says, irritated. “I’ll just come back tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have your head on straight by then.” 

And with that he leaves me. I rush to my library room to start finding ideas on what to do about him tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

In the past four days I have tried several methods to deal with Logan’s visits. I have ignored his knocking entirely. I have turned on the radio in my house and put the volume up so loud that he couldn’t even try to talk to me. I have threatened to shoot him, even though I don’t have a gun anymore. And lastly I have threatened to call the police. From what little I have gathered when he has tried to talk to me, I know that he and Charles want me to come back to their school with them. They believe that we can help each other, that they can help me get better control of my powers and that I in turn can help them keep the criminal mutants of the world under control. Except it seems clear that neither Logan or Charles were entirely sure what my powers even are. I’m not interested in being involved in their project anyway. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be near me. But I am starting to get worried that this Logan fellow might actually be more stubborn than I am. And I’m kinda worried that maybe he’ll give up. For the past five days, I’ve actually had someone talk to me. That’s more human contact in one week than I’ve known in years. It may be a little twisted, but I sort of like his persistence in trying to talk to me. 

It is 9AM and like clockwork, I hear another knock at the door. “Rosa, I’ve had about enough of this game!” Logan says, and he actually sounds angry this time. “Open this door, listen to what I have to say or I’ll open it myself. Either way, after today, I’ll leave you alone for good.” 

I feel panic rising up in me. “Wait, don’t do that!.” I say. I shouldn’t even consider hearing him out now. Listening to whatever it is that he and Charles wanted to recruit me for was never an option because the answer is always going to be no and as soon as he is convinced that I mean it, he’ll leave. I can’t let him leave for good though. 

“Don’t do what? Don’t open the door?” He asks, he sounds tired and irritated. It’s clear that he doesn’t like the task that his friend Charles has given him. He’s ready for it to end so he can go back to his life. 

“Don’t leave…” I say, choking back my tears. I wrench the door open and find him standing there on my unwelcoming welcome mat looking very confused. “You can come in…” I say, and I realize that not only do I have tears streaming down my face, my hair is a mess and my clothes don’t match. “Just… just keep your distance. Don’t touch me.” 

“Fine, I won’t.” He says. 

I turn and head into the living room. “We can talk in here.” I say, taking a seat in my favorite reading chair. He chooses another chair almost across from mine. 

Logan looks around the room and I can see that he probably thinks I actually am a crazy person. My living room is filled with dusty stacks of books and newspapers on almost every surface all interspersed with teacups, many half filled with tea. There are little stone statues everywhere too, which is probably what he finds most disturbing. There are insects of jade and agate, leaves of trees in silver and amethyst, a carrot that is partially bronze, a rat made of fine blue marble, among many others. Logan’s eyes rest on the statue of a cat in sterling silver which looked like it might have died in pain. 

“The cat was an accident.” I say, a little defensively. 

He nods, a little disturbed by it all. “So this is what you can do?” 

“Can do? It’s not as if I want to do this.” I say. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He says, defensive now too. 

“So what can you do?” I ask, just trying to keep him talking, to keep him here a little longer in spite of knowing how selfish it is to keep anyone nearby. 

“I can kill things.” He says, making a fist and I watch as three silver claws protrude from his hand. “And can’t get killed so easily.” He says retracting the claws as the skin on his hand heals up before my eyes. 

“I’ve never met anyone else who can heal like that.” I say, a little amazed. 

“You have a healing factor?” He asks. 

I nod. 

“Charles is going to like that.” Logan says. 

“I can’t go with you.” I say, making myself clear. “I can’t go back to your school or help you with anything. I’m too dangerous.” 

“Everyone’s dangerous.” Logan shrugged, “I once stabbed someone while I was asleep. A friend of mine had a nightmare and turned half the school to ice. We’re used to dangerous.” 

“Not this kind.” I say. “Everything I touch dies! One accident is all it takes, one touch, and once it has started I can’t stop whatever I touch from turning into stone… I won’t endanger everyone like that. I can’t.” I say, my voice is breaking. 

Logan looks sad, as if he is at a loss for words. Finally he speaks up. “How long have you been living alone like this?” 

“I don’t know… fifteen… sixteen...years…” I say, I haven’t kept track of the exact date. 

“And you’re sure you’re not interested in coming back to the school with us?” He asks again. “We’d take precautions, make everyone is as safe as we could.” 

“I can’t…” I say. 

“Okay then, I’ll get out of your hair.” He gets up and walks out of the living room towards the front door. 

“Wait!” I call after him. He stops near the front door and turns around to face me. I’m standing three feet away. This is the closest I have been to another person many many years. “Do you have to go… right now?” I am hating myself for being weak enough to ask him this. I know how dangerous it is. I shouldn’t need him to stay longer. I’ve done just fine without human company for a very long time now. It’s stupid to mess with my luck now. 

“I guess there’s really no hurry.” He says. “What did you have in mind?” 

“Dinner and a movie?” I say, almost timidly, afraid that it will sound too much like a date when I all I really want is some company. 

“Sure, why not.” He says, and he takes off his leather jacket and hangs it on a hook behind him. 

“I’ll go see what I can make for dinner.” I say, heading towards the kitchen. “Do you have any preferences for dinner?” 

“I don’t care much.” He says. “Do you have any beer?” 

I am thankful that I keep a well stocked wine cellar and a cabinet full of every kind of beer Logan could ever want. I will do my best to make this a memorable evening and then I will send him away. It will be nice to have some new memories involving people. That’s all I’m doing here. Just making new memories. It will just be for one evening because any longer than that and there’s the potential of me hurting someone. I’ll just have to be extra careful.


	3. Chapter 3

I don’t think I’ve ever talked to someone so much in so short a time period. We’ve had dinner and a movie and have spent the time afterwards talking about so many things. I told him about growing up in Northern Maine before my powers manifested and he told me about his friends at the school and a little about some of the bad people they had helped to stop. The hour is growing late, Logan glances at his watch and I can see that he is thinking about leaving. 

“This house has seventeen bedrooms.” I say, “It’s almost like a hotel.” 

“Are you asking me to stay?” He says, a little warily. 

“Yes. No. I don’t know…” I say, a little more whiny than I had intended. 

“What’s going on with you? You spent the better part of a week trying to keep me away and now it seems you don’t want me to leave.” Logan says. 

“Nothing...I’m just...just lonely, that’s all.” I say. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ever even let you in given how dangerous I am. It was a very selfish thing to do. You should probably go.” 

“I probably should, but I’m not going to.” He says. “You can show me which one of these seventeen bedrooms you want me in.” 

I find myself smiling a little as I take him to the room that I think will suit him best. Many of my rooms look very Victorian in decor. This one has a view of the ocean and looks like the cabin of a ship. There are log beams in the ceiling, a ship’s wheel on the wall. The curtains are made of sail cloth. It isn’t that he strikes me as a sailor because he really doesn’t. It’s that this room is the most rustic one I have. Logan clearly isn’t impressed by wealth or fancy decorations so maybe this room will seem more appropriate to him. 

“Will this work?” I ask him, opening the door and switching on the light. 

“This will be fine.” He says, and I can see that he at least doesn’t hate the room. 

“Good night Logan.” I say and he nods and closes the door behind him. I go the room right next to his. It is not my usual bedroom but he doesn’t know that. He has no idea which room is mine. My real bedroom in on the next floor. I don’t want to go there tonight. I like the idea of being nearer to a real person. I like the idea of maybe hearing him get up in the morning and shuffle around the room and get dressed or to walk out to breakfast. I spend so little time with people that even that seems like a novelty to me. 

In the morning I do hear Logan get up. I hear the water running in the bathroom. I hear the rustling of fabric as he gets dressed. I hear him pacing around the room, seemingly unsure what to do with himself. I like hearing these sounds in my house. It’s always so quiet with just me. Dead silence sometimes. 

I get out of bed and slip back to my old bedroom to get dressed. By the time I go back to Logan’s room, the door is open but he isn’t in there. For a moment I wonder if he was ever there at all or if I have finally gone insane from the solitude. I head towards the kitchen because if Logan actually is real, that’s where he’ll be. I round a corner in the hallway to take the stairs and I run directly into him and as I do, my bare arm touches his. I jump back with a shriek, my hand clasps over my mouth to stop the scream. 

Logan looks down at his arm and we both watch as the speck of gray that appeared when I touched him, simply fades away. 

“It doesn’t usually do that.” I finally say, in shock. “Usually it grows until the person is consumed.” 

“Doesn’t look like I’m gonna be consumed.” Logan says. 

“But... how is that possible?” I ask. 

“Must be my regenerative powers.” He says with a shrug. 

“Did it even hurt?” I ask him, still reeling. 

He holds his hand out. “Try it again.” 

“No.” I say, taking a step back. “This isn’t something to mess with.” 

“It didn’t hurt. I’ll be fine. Try it again.” He says. 

“I can’t do that.” I say, terrified that this was just a fluke and I will still kill him if I let this happen. 

Logan grabs my hand in his and I bite back a scream. Nothing happens. Absolutely nothing. No graying skin, nothing is turning to stone, he doesn’t even seem to be in pain. I stare down at his hand holding mine. And then I burst into tears. No one has touched me since I was a child, at least not touched me and survived it. The sensation of his hand against mine is overwhelming in a good way. He takes a step closer to me and wraps his arms around me and I find that I am sobbing in earnest against his chest. I don’t know how long we stand there hugging in the hallway. It is longer than four minutes, I do know that. Which means that I have found the one person in the world that safely can keep me from being alone. I don’t want to let go. Not ever. I’ll have to go back to his school with him now or else convince him to stay here.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s hard letting go of him. I think he understands how difficult it is for me because he doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t push me away. It is well past time for breakfast. I am hungry and so I force myself to step back and let him go. 

“Are you okay?” He asks me, a little worried. 

“I should be asking you that.” I say, nodding to indicate that I am in fact okay. 

“I’m fine. Just hungry.” He says. 

“Then we ought to eat breakfast.” I say, moving towards the stairs. He follows me down to the kitchen and because I am too shaken to cook, we eat cold cereal. 

“I need to head back to the school tomorrow.” Logan tells me as we eat. “You gonna come with me or not?” 

I am suddenly nervous about answering this question. I am still worried about the very idea of living in a school full of other people whom I could potentially hurt. I can’t ask Logan to stay here. I barely know him and he has a life of his own. It would be presumptuous to even ask. And I can’t let him leave. If he leaves, then it is likely that no one will ever touch me again. The truth is, I don’t even know if he has a girlfriend or a wife somewhere who wouldn’t want me needing him the way I do. I definitely do need him. At the very least I need his friendship and the promise of a hug from time to time. A hug as often as possible would be even better. I just don’t even know if he has any inkling of all the hopes I am placing on him and I am terrified to tell him. 

“Rosa?” He asks, breaking me from my anxious thoughts. “Are you coming or staying?” 

“I don’t know...that depends…” I say, worriedly, unsure how to form my thoughts into words. 

“On what?” 

“You do realize that the question of whether I go isn’t even fair?” I ask him. 

“How is it unfair?” He asks. 

“If I go, I’ll be risking the lives of anyone who might come near me. If I stay, then I’ll be letting the only person in the world who can touch me, just walk away.” I say sadly. 

“Right. There is that.” He says, setting down his spoon to look up at me. “I’m not gonna just walk away. If you’re too scared to leave then I’ll come back and visit sometimes.” 

“I’m not too scared.” I protest. 

“Sounds like you are.” He says, resuming his meals. “Makes sense that you would be. You haven’t been out of this house in how many years?” 

“It isn’t about leaving the house.” I say, a little angry with him. 

“Then what is it about?” 

I swallow. I know he is right. I am afraid. I’m afraid that I will make a mistake out there and someone will die. I am afraid that I am expecting far too much of him. Far more than he can deliver or would want to. “You’re right I am too scared.” I admit. 

“Of what exactly?” He prods. 

I don’t want to tell him. I find myself doing it anyway. “Of hurting someone. Of needing you too much.” 

He sighs and pushes aside his empty cereal bowl. Then he reaches over and puts his hand on mine. The sensation is still a novelty to me. My breath catches in my throat. 

“You won’t hurt anyone. You’ll be careful, and everyone at the school will be warned to be careful. You don’t have to worry about that part...and me...I don’t really mind being needed.” He tells me. 

“Thank you…” I breathe the words. 

“So you’ll come back with me tomorrow?” He asks. 

“I will.” I agree, hoping I’m not making a huge mistake.


	5. Chapter 5

I drop my spoon three times as I load the dishwasher after breakfast. The third time, Logan gets up and picks up the spoon for me. I had already been reaching for the spoon. My hand is shaking. I am more than aware of how stupid it is to feel so anxious. But the truth is, I don’t know how to act around him. I’ve never experienced a normal friendship or relationship. There was a time more than twenty years ago that I knew how to talk to people and that skill seems to be coming back to me. The ability to carry on a conversation is not the same at all as an actual relationship. What am I supposed to do with him all day? What do normal people do? Do they sit and talk for hours at a time? Do they play board games? How much time do they spend apart before it means that they aren’t really friends anymore? Can I touch him without asking permission? How much touching is considered invasive? I have no idea of the answers to these questions. I am a person who is good at finding answers. I have an entire library at my disposal. I’ve educated myself in multiple areas. I don’t think there are any books that can answer the questions that are driving my current anxiety. 

I finish loading the dishwasher with our cereal bowls and with the dinner plates from yesterday. 

“Would I be correct to assume that you’d rather I didn’t go back to my hotel again tonight?” He asks me. 

I breathe a sigh of relief. “You would. You can stay here again.’”

“Then I have to go back to my hotel sometime today and get all my stuff.” Logan tells me. He is leaned against the kitchen counter watching me. He almost looks worried. 

“Okay.” I say, managing to keep my voice steady. He’s leaving me alone again already? 

“You could come with me.” He says. My expression must have betrayed my fears at that suggestion because he continues, “I know it’s probably pretty scary, but you’re gonna need to practice being out with people.” 

“Maybe…” I am hesitant to agree with this. 

“Come on, let’s go right now. I’ll help you make sure that no one touches you.” He says, no longer leaning against the kitchen counter and heading towards the front door. 

I follow him but stop short at the front door. I actually have been outside of the house a bunch of times in all the years I’ve lived here but I only go out in the middle of the night. It’s the best way to make sure I won’t have to talk to any neighbors. I go out in the middle of the night to get the mail, to retrieve my groceries. A few times I’ve gone out in the middle of the night to swim in the ocean. I always have to gather up the dead sea snails and sometimes strands of seaweed that I’ve turned to stone. Those trips out of the house on my property at night have helped to keep me from going entirely insane. I haven’t been out during the day in years. 

Logan sees my trepidation and he turns and takes my arm and guides me out the door. I have to go with him. Staying here alone isn’t really an option in my mind, nor is walking away from his touch. The sunlight seems much more bright than I remember it being. The birds are also a lot more noisy during the day than they are at night. And the wildflowers on my overgrown lawn are open and in bloom. At night, I could never even see them. I can see sailboats on the ocean in the distance. It’s all very surreal. I find myself smiling a little at the sights. 

“How long since you’ve been out of the house?” Logan asks as he opens the van door for me. 

“During the day? I don’t know… years…” I tell him. 

He looks a little surprised. He closes the door and goes around to get into the driver’s seat. 

“It’s been twenty years since I’ve been in a car.” I tell him as he gets in. 

“So I take it you used to go out more and be more social? What happened?” He asks me. 

So I tell him. He already knows how I grew up in Northern Maine. My parents were Aroostook County potato farmers in the 1930s and 40s. I’d had a pretty normal childhood for a farm kid. I went to school, played with my four brothers, rode on the tractor with Daddy, helped to dig potatoes at harvest time every year, raked blueberries for two summers with Aunt Violet, trudged through the snow carrying firewood after school every day all winter. I have nothing but happy memories of that time. Then when I was sixteen everything fell apart. There was this boy at school, Eugene Roberts. I was sweet on him and so was my best friend Emma Abbott. One afternoon, Eugene asked to walk me home from school and I accepted. I didn’t know Emma had followed us in her jealousy. I didn’t know what was about to happen when Eugene kissed me. I only remember screaming and trying to get him up off the ground. And Emma came running out of hiding and she pulled me off of him. There was nothing I could do. I watched them both die and there was nothing I could do. After that I ran away. I had just killed two people and I was a freak. I survived alright in the woods and on the streets for a while. I couldn’t hunt my own food or even pick my own vegetables. Whatever I ate had to already be dead. So I practiced turning small animals and insects to stone until I could support myself off the money I made selling them. I wore gloves, I kept moving from place to place, and I was careful not to get to know people or let them know what I was. Eventually, I rented a house in Belfast Maine. I even made a few friends in that town, though I kept them distant. And somehow, my brother Stuart found me. He was old by then and I still looked to be in my twenties. I should have never opened the front door. I should have warned him before I allowed him in… but he greeted me with a hug… and after that I packed up everything, bought a new house in a new town, and never went out again. 

Logan seems at a loss for words as we arrive at the hotel. 

“Those weren’t the only accidents I’ve had.” I tell him. “But were the worst.” 

“I’m sorry.” He says, switching off the van. “You still shouldn’t have to be alone.” 

“I didn’t have any other choice.” I tell him. 

“I know, but you do now.” He says.


	6. Chapter 6

It occurs to me as we cross the parking lot to his hotel room, that this is the first time I’ve ever been in a position where I have to trust a man not to hurt me. I’m not afraid of Logan. Fear isn’t what got me started on this train of thought. It’s just that I’ve read about women who are afraid to be alone with men because they might be taken advantage of. It probably isn’t smart to go alone to his hotel room or to have invited him to stay in my house. I barely know him, and I don’t actually have the power to stop him like i would if he were anyone else.. I’ve never been afraid that any man would hurt me. I’ve only been afraid that I would hurt them. It’s odd realizing that if he wanted to, he could hurt me. But I’m pretty sure he won’t do that. I’m not worried about it. I’m just taking in the strangeness of it all. 

He unlocks the door to his room and I follow him inside. He grabs a backpack full of stuff and disappears into the bathroom. I sit on the edge of the bed and turn on the TV. I’m still flipping channels when Logan comes back having changed his clothes. He hardly looks any different if not for a slightly different shade of blue jeans and a new pattern of flannel shirt. If I hadn’t seen the change for myself, I would have hardly noticed the difference. 

“I might as well go check out.” He says. “Shoulda done that last night.” 

“Sorry.” I say, feeling a little guilty for having asked him to stay. 

“It’s alright. The school paid for the room.” He says. “Come on.” 

I don’t want to follow him to the front desk but I grit my teeth and do it anyway. To my great relief, it all goes smoothly. I don’t accidently kill anyone. I don’t even have to speak to the receptionist. He notices my sigh of relief as we make our way back to the van. 

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” He asks. 

“Not this time.” I admit. 

We go back to my house and I begin the process of packing up some of my things to bring with me to the school tomorrow. Logan occupies himself with a beer and the TV in the living room. Once I am finished packing a bag of things, I go downstairs and join him in the living room. I’m not sure if I should sit next to him on the sofa or not. I sit next to him anyway. I’m sitting there trying to decide if I should reach over and rest my hand on his arm or not and I don’t even realize that I’m not watching TV at all. He notices. 

“You don’t have to ask.” He tells me, breaking me from my gaze at his arm. 

“Ask what?’ I ask. 

He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “For this. You don’t have to ask to touch me. I don’t mind. Maybe I even like it.” 

I start to cry. I know I’ve been way too emotional the entire past week. I can’t help it. This is just all too much. I lean closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder. I can’t focus on the TV show. I don’t even know what it is he’s watching. All I can think about is the fact that I’m allowed to be close to someone again. I keep finding excuses to touch him all day long. There are lots of little touches. A hug, a hand on his arm during lunch, holding his hand during a movie. We talk a lot over the course of the day too and I learn more about his friends and his life. He doesn’t seem to mind my company. Even so, I don’t dare to hope that I mean as much to him as he does to me right now. 

When night finally comes, I sleep in the room next to his again. Soon, I find myself in a dream that I’ve had many times over the years. I am in a garden of statues. Everyone I’ve ever known or loved is there, turned to stone and dead. The statues are set up in rows like a maze. I walk past my father a granite statue holding a crate of potatoes that have turned to stone as well. Then I see Aunt Violet in blue marble like her blueberry pie. My twin brothers Jack and Billy are there, dead in a pose of playfully wrestling each other. Next I see Mama. She is wiping her face with her apron, her calf length skirt looks as if it turned to stone while the wind was blowing. Finally my baby brother George. Even in the dream some part of me knows that he didn’t stay a baby. He grew up. He grew up and had a decent life because I stayed away and never kissed him good night ever again. Now here he is, a stone baby like a baby Jesus from a nativity scene. I try to move past him in a hurry and I trip over Stuart’s stone body on the ground. I pick myself up to run away and find Emma standing dead and cold behind me. She hadn’t been there before. I go around her and on the other side I find Eugene, not dead but alive and smiling. He comes closer to me and kisses me. He has kissed me so many times in my dreams. I should know by now that none of this is real but I don’t. I only know that I want him to kiss me. I like him kissing me. He gasps and pulls away. His face begins to turn gray. I know now what is going to happen. 

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I scream. I scream again and again but I can not stop the transformation. I can do nothing to end his pain or to save him. 

“Hey, hey, wake up.” I hear Logan’s voice pulling me back to my dark bedroom. His hands are on my shoulders. 

I sit up and gasp awake. 

“That must have been some nightmare.” He says. “You were screaming pretty loud.” 

“I have that dream a lot.” I admit. “I didn’t know I ever scream out loud.” 

“I guess I better keep your room near mine at the school. We wouldn’t want someone else to try and wake you from that.” 

“No, we wouldn’t.” I agree. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, what was the dream?” 

So I tell him. I tell him every detail. I even admit that I want Eugene to kiss me in my dreams, because it was the only way I could ever experience it. 

“I think I know of something that may help.” He says. 

“What would that be?” 

Logan leans a little closer to me and he kisses me. It’s better than I remember. So much better. Maybe that’s because it all happened so long ago and my memory isn’t clear. Or maybe it’s because Logan knows more about how to kiss a woman than teenage Eugene did. I only know that this real kiss is better than any in my dreams. I hope it won’t be the last one.


	7. Chapter 7

I awaken to the sound of Logan moving around in the bedroom next to mine. I slept better, without any more nightmares after the kiss. Once I had assured him I was okay, Logan had gone back to his room. Now I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. I slip out of bed and go back to my old bedroom to get shower and get dressed. I’m more careful picking out my clothes today since I know that I will be going out among people. Everything I packed to bring with me was much the same as what I’m looking for today. Long sleeves. Long pants. High collared shirts. Gloves. It’s the safest way to dress. It’s safest and I hate it. I feel most comfortable in dresses styled after the 1940s and 50s fashion. I have a few Marylin Monroe style outfits which I have worn alone many times. If the neighbors have ever seen me wandering outside in the middle of the night in my old fashioned pin-up clothes, they were probably even more convinced of how crazy I am. In spite of knowing I can never wear my dresses among people, I stuff three of them into my luggage anyway. Then I put on a pair of jeans with a sleeveless silk blouse. I grab a pair of gloves and turtleneck to put on over it later when it’s time to leave for the airport. 

Back in the kitchen Logan is already making breakfast for the both of us. He glances over at me standing in the doorway. “Good morning.” He says. “I found eggs in the fridge. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No it’s fine.” I say. I haven’t had anyone cook for me in years. Probably not since I was a kid. 

It turns out that Logan is a pretty good cook. We eat breakfast, clean up, and then realize that we have two hours before it’s time to head to the airport. 

“I need to make some calls about getting my house taken care of.” I tell Logan. He nods and heads for the living room again. I pick up the phone and call one of my neighbors, give him instructions on what I need done, and tell him where to find payment. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone but I can mail him payment if I need to. 

There is something else I want to do before I leave. I can hear the TV in the living room. I guess he won’t mind if I leave him to himself for a little while. I make my way to the other end of the house to the room that contains my grand piano. I usually play a lot. If I’m not reading a book, or trying to learn something that I’ve taken an interest in, I’m playing the piano. I haven’t played in two days since Logan has been here. I miss it. I don’t know if they have a piano at the school or when I’ll have the chance to play again. I sit down on the bench and begin to play Strauss’ Kaiser-Walzer. It is a piece I know well. When I have finished with that I move on to Chopin, then a rag by Joplin. I’m halfway through Gershwin when I notice Logan leaning against the doorframe watching me. I stop playing immediately. 

“You don’t have to stop on my account.” He says. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask him. 

“Since partway into the first song. You never said anything about taking piano lessons as a kid?” He asks. 

“Aunt Violet played. She taught me what she could when I stayed with her those couple of summers. The rest I just….well, she said I was gifted, and it has been the only time I’ve ever been willing to accept the description.” I tell him a little sheepishly. 

“From what I just heard, sounds like she was right.” He says. 

“Thank you.” I say, getting up from the piano bench. I am ready for a change of subject. “It’s getting late. There’s one other thing I need to do before we leave.”

I take an envelope from the desk nearby and head towards the door leading to my cellar. Logan follows me down the stairs. I switch on a light and illuminate the many shelves holding wine and other alcohols. 

“So this is where you keep the beer.” He says. 

“Among other things, yes.” I say. He follows me into the next room where there is a huge vault door, much like a bank vault. 

“Let me guess, that’s full of your better quality stone creations?” He asks. 

I nod, my hand on the combination. I don’t want to go in the vault. I’ve needed to go in and get out cash for almost two weeks but I hate going in there. I keep procrastinating the task. 

“Wait?” Logan says on seeing my hesitation. “You don’t want to go in there. It’s too much like your nightmare.” 

“I can do this.” I say, setting to work on the combination. I don’t care if he sees the number sequence. I don’t have the vault to keep from getting robbed. I have it to hide the extent of my abilities. Logan already knows all that anyway. I wrench the door open, take a deep breath and go inside. 

“Wow this is…” Logan looks around at the collection of larger and most valuable of my statues. 

“Scary.” I finish the thought for him as I fill a bag with cash from off of a shelf. 

“I was gonna say weird but scary works.” He says, stopping to look at a jade fish that was curled up having died writhing in pain. 

“Done.” I say, ready to be out of there. 

He helps me to close the vault door and we go upstairs, gather our stuff. I leave an envelope of money under the welcome mat and we climb into the van to head to the airport. I’ve never been on a plane before. I had always thought it would be a bad idea to trap someone like me in a tin can filled with people while flying through the sky. The prospect didn’t seem any safer today than it had in the past. Logan parks the van and I pull my sweater and gloves on. 

It takes a while to pass through security and get loaded onto the flight. As we are boarding the plane, I finally voice my worries. “How are we gonna do this safely?” 

“You’re gonna sit by the window and I’ll sit next to you. No one else will be able to get near you. It’ll be fine.” He says. 

I feel skeptical of this. We take our seats on the plane and I begin to feel a little less tense, simply because he is near me. Now all we have to do is get through this flight and then I’ll have to deal with meeting a whole bunch of new people that I’ll spend my time trying not to kill. This should be easy.


	8. Chapter 8

I cling tightly to Logan’s hand as the plane takes off. The flight is short and Logan keeps people away from me as he said he would. When the flight attendant tries to pass me a bottle of water, he tells her that I have a phobia of being touched and that it’s best to keep distant. The flight attendant makes a note of it and no one tries to come near me for the rest of the flight. 

Logan has friends waiting for us when we land. There is a woman with dark skin and white hair, and a man in sunglasses. She comes over and gives Logan a big hug. My stomach drops. I should have realized that this would be coming but for some reason I didn’t. Just because I can’t touch anyone but him, doesn’t make him limited to only touching me. These people are his friends and since he’s been gone more than a week, it makes sense that they might hug him to welcome him back. 

“Ororo, Scott, this is Rosa.” Logan tells them. 

“Nice to meet you.” I say, trying to be polite in spite of my feelings. “I’ve heard lots of good things about you.” 

Ororo puts out her hand to shake mine and I instinctively take a step back. I am wearing gloves. It probably would be okay to shake her hand but it’s a reaction I’ve spent years with and I can’t let it go so easily. 

“She doesn’t touch people.” Logan says. “If she does then they sort of… turn to stone… and die…” He says a little uncomfortably. 

“I see.” Ororo says. “If you’re going to be joining us at the school then we’ll have to add a warning to the announcements.” 

“Of course.” I say. I don’t like it, but I had known it was coming. 

We take a car from the airport back to the school. Scott drives and Ororo sits in the front seat beside him. Logan loads our bags into the trunk and joins me in the back seat. I spend much of the ride answering Ororo’s questions about Maine, a place she has never visited and I have never left. All the while I am holding Logan’s hand. It helps to steady me and to ease my fears about this new place filled with people. 

“Hey I thought you said she couldn’t touch people?” Scott says, glancing in the rearview mirror. Ororo turns to see what he is looking at. 

“She can’t. Except for me apparently.” Logan says. 

“Are you sure that’s safe Logan?” Ororo asked. “What if she’s having more effect on you than realize?” 

“She’s not. It’s fine.” He says.

Ororo doesn’t look convinced. “We should at least run some tests just to be sure.” 

 

I try not to worry about these tests she’s speaking of but I can’t help it. That would be just like the rest of my life for these tests to turn out badly. I have finally found someone who can touch me only to have it all taken away because these science people find that it’s not safe after all. And when they tell me that I’m slowly killing him with my touch, what then? Will I go back to my house and live alone again? Will I stay here and watch everyone else be able to hug him and I can’t? I don’t even know. I realize that I’m am starting to panic and I struggle to calm my breathing and relax my stiff posture and I fail entirely. Ororo glances into the backseat a second time looking worried. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Logan tells me, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “I don’t care what the tests say, you’re not gonna be alone again.” 

Neither of us a are buckled in. It’s not like we need to with our healing factor. He slides a little closer to me and he puts an arm around me. I rest against him and finally start to relax again. At least on the outside I relax. The worry hasn’t entirely left me yet. 

We arrive at the school. I hang back and watch as several more of Logan’s friends come to greet him. There are hugs, high fives, even a kiss on the cheek. I try not to let it bother me but I can’t deny that it does hurt. I have no one else, and he has everyone else. I know it’s stupid and yet the envy I feel just won’t go away. 

He leads me through the halls of the school and up a flight of stairs then down another long hallway. “This is my room.” He says. “Looks like the ones next to it are occupied but that one three doors down isn’t.” He points out a door a little further down the hall. He drops his bags outside his door and proceeds to carry mine into my room. 

I look around the room and find that though it’s very nice and well furnished, it’s also very different than my New England Victorian home. I don’t feel at home here at all. At least not yet. 

“I have to go talk to Charles.” Logan tells me. “Dinner is at 6PM. You’ll be okay until then?” 

“I will.” I tell him and I let him walk away in spite of the fact that my words were a complete lie. I’m not sure I’ll be okay at all.


	9. Chapter 9

I lock the door to the room behind him after he leaves. I take out one of the books from my bag and I curl up on the bed to read. No announcement about my presence has been made yet so I can’t see how it would be safe to wander around the school or talk to anyone just yet. I’m not sure I even want to anyway. I only want burrow myself in blankets and hide in the world of my book. So I do, for several hours. 

A knock at my door pulls me from my fantasy world. “Rosa?” Says a voice that I recognize as Ororo’s. 

“Coming.” I say, throwing back the covers. I put a bookmark in my book and place it on the bedside stand. Then I go and open the door. 

“I was hoping you’d be willing to come with me to the lab and have a blood test. It’ll only take a few minutes. 

“Okay.” I agree to go with her. I don’t want to. I don’t even want to know what they might find out about me or about what my powers do to Logan, but I go in spite of myself. 

The lab looks like a typical lab with medical equipment and sterile surfaces. A woman with latex gloves and lab coat takes a sample of my blood. 

“How long before you find out anything?” I ask, wanting to know when my fate will be decided almost as much as I want to avoid knowing it. 

“Should only be a couple of days.” Ororo says. 

Only a couple of days. I swallow. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go back to my room now.” I say. 

“You don’t have to hide away in there.” Ororo says. “Some of the adult students are having a volleyball game in twenty minutes. You could join us.” 

The prospect of playing a sport with a group of people sounds very daunting to me. People get excited about their sports. I could easily imagine someone jumping for a stray ball running into me accidentally. Then turning to stone and dieing. “I don’t think so.” 

I all but flee back to my room, careful to avoid people in the hallway by keeping close to the wall as I pass them. I go back into my room, lock the door, and resume reading my book as before. 

I’m not aware of how much time has passed until another knock on the door pulls me from the pages of my book. I look up at the clock on the wall and see that the time is 6:20. I get up and unlock the door, opening it slowly. Logan is standing there on the other side. 

“Did you forget about dinner?” He asks. 

“No I just…” I don’t really have a good excuse. I had lost track of time while reading but I hadn’t actually wanted to go to dinner even if I’d seen the time. 

“You’ve been hiding in here all day.” He says, it wasn’t a question. 

“My book is very fascinating.” I say as explanation. 

“I can’t let you starve just because you’re trying to avoid seeing any people.” He says. 

“I have seen people today. I went to the lab.” I argue. 

“Yeah, and then you ran right back here and locked yourself in.” He says. “Come on out of there and eat. No one’s gonna touch you. The announcement was made at the start or the meal.” 

“No one?” I ask, wondering for a moment if he’s including himself in that statement. 

“No one except me.” He says, taking my hand he gently pulls me out of the doorway into the hallway. I go with him to the dining room, not sure what to expect of all these people who now know what I am and what I can do.


	10. Chapter 10

No one seems to pay any attention to me as I walk into the dining room with Logan. It’s a big common room with several long tables. He finds us a seat at the end where no one will be able to sit next to me except for him on one side. There are several teenagers seated at this end of the table. 

“Who’s your friend Mr Logan?” Asks a brown eyed girl. 

“This is Rosa Preston, from Maine.” He tells the girl. 

“And what’s your power?” She starts to ask. “No wait, do you have a code name? Tell us that name and we’ll guess your power?” She asks a little excitedly. 

Her question brings me back to another time when the locals had a name for me. At the time I’d hated it but here it almost made sense. “I’ve been called Medusa before.” I tell her. 

She looks over at the blond boy next to her and he smiles. “Can you turn things to stone?” He asks. 

I nod. 

“That’s awesome.” He says. 

“I don’t think it’s so awesome.” I tell them. 

“Oh, you’re the one they just made an announcement about.” The girl says. “You can’t touch anyone. That’s gotta suck.”

“It does.” I tell her. Suck, is a word that barely describes how I feel about being unable to touch people. There no sense in telling this girl that. 

“But Professor Logan was holding your hand when you came in here.” The boy points out. 

“I’m kinda immune to her, or something like that.” He explains. 

“Aww, that’s so sweet. All those years of not being able to touch anyone and now…” The girl says. Clearly she is a romantic at heart. 

I open my mouth to protest simply because I think it’s probably the right thing to do. Logan and I aren’t dating. We haven’t spoken about being in any sort of relationship. I shouldn’t let these kids assume that something exists that doesn’t exist. In a place like this rumors probably spread pretty quickly. Yet I hesitate to say anything because I want to know what Logan is going to say. Maybe he’ll tell them that we’re just friends. Maybe he won’t. 

He doesn’t say anything at all. Instead he asks the the guy on his left to pass the salt. The next thing I know the conversation has moved on to the topic of Ororo’s hair and then Bobby Blake’s new boots and then the overbearing parents of the girl seated across from me. I just let them talk and don’t make any effort to join their conversation. Generally I prefer to listen. It’s easier that way. 

The teens finish their meal and leave the table. They had been nearly finished when we arrived. Logan gets up to get a second plate of food. Scott Summers comes over and sits in one of the empty chairs across from me. 

“So, how are you liking the school so far?” He asks me. 

“I don’t really know just yet.” I tell him quite honestly. 

“Most people find it a little overwhelming at first. I imagine it’s harder for someone like you.” He says. 

“Someone like me?” I’m unsure if he’s referring to my powers or my recent long isolation or something else. 

“Well you’re trying to keep your distance from people and that can’t be an easy task being as pretty as you are.” He says. 

I feel myself starting to blush. It isn’t the first time I’ve been called pretty. When I was in my teens the boys used to say I looked like Elizabeth Taylor. That hasn’t changed much. I still look like a twenty eight year old version of her, violet eyes, fair skin, and all. My hair is longer and usually worn in a loose braid but I was aware before now that people consider me to be pretty. I don’t get the feeling that Scott intended to flirt with me. He was just talking, as if my beauty were a fact just like the temperature outdoors or the food on my plate is a fact. Even so, it is so rare that anyone calls me pretty these days that I am both pleased and embarrassed by the compliment. 

“I usually manage keeping my distance just fine.” I manage to reply. 

“Hey Mr Summers?” A teen boy calls out to Scott from the table next to ours. “How many pages do we have to write for that assignment?” 

Scott sighs and shakes his head. “I better go over there or Barry will never get the paper done right.” He gets up and leaves me just before Logan comes back. We finish our meal and then Logan asks me if I want to come see the school grounds. I walk with him outside to the gardens. 

“What did Scott want?” Logan asks me. 

“Just to ask me how I like the school.” I tell him. 

“He said something… something that made you blush.” Logan says. 

I hadn’t realized he’d been watching me from across the room. “He said I was pretty.” I say, trying to shrug it off as if it were nothing. “Actually, he said it must be hard for someone as pretty as I am to keep people distant.” 

Logan says nothing to that but his jaw tightens. I can see that he is angry but I’m not sure why he should be. 

“Is that a problem?” I finally find the courage to ask him. 

“No. I just should have said it first.” He says, still angry. 

His words surprise me. “Why?” I blurt out. 

“Because Scott is the kind of guy who always gets the girl.” Logan admits. 

“Well, Scott can’t ever get this girl.” I say in protest. “It’s impossible for him and impossible for everyone except for…” I don’t have to say except for Logan. He knows. 

“About that…” Logan begins uncomfortably. I find I am worried about whatever he might be planning to say next. “How would you feel about going on a real date?” 

That hadn’t been what I expected him to say. “I would like that.” I say with a smile.


	11. Chapter 11

Ororo finds us in the garden and invites us to join their Monopoly tournament in the dining room. Monopoly seems less dangerous than volleyball and it’s too early to go to bed so I join them. I meet a few new people, students and teachers. The game goes about how most Monopoly games do. It’s fun at first, then someone argues about the rules or is accused of cheating. That person quits, we divide up their stuff and continue the game without them. And it continues for a long time before someone finally wins. That someone is Hank McCoy. He doesn’t gloat too much though. 

Logan walks with me back to my room. We’re going in the same direction anyway so it may not be exactly on purpose that he comes with me. He lingers outside my door for a moment and I hesitate to go in. I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss from last night. He did say it was okay for me to touch him but I don’t really know if that includes kissing him. He did ask me on a date though, so that must mean he’s at least interested. I push my misgivings aside and I take a step closer to him and kiss him. I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him so I wrap one arm around his neck to keep my balance. 

“Good night Logan.” I saw in a near whisper as I pull away from him. 

His arms come around me and he doesn’t let me go just yet. He kisses me a second time, more roughly than I had kissed him. I like being kissed like this. I am glad he is holding me tightly because I’m afraid I would be too dizzy to stay standing if not for his arms around me. We stay there long enough that a teen passing by in the hallway snickers at the sight of us. Logan lets me go and helps me to find my footing. 

“Good night Rosa.” He tells me. 

I open the door to my room and slip inside. My heart is racing so fast that I find it difficult to sleep at first. Just before sleep finds me, I wonder for a moment if I will have any nightmares this night. I don’t. I sleep more peacefully than I have in years. 

The next day is spent signing up for classes and meeting more people. I actually attend three classes, have lunch with a group of people I’ve never met, I spend several hours in the library working on one of my first assignments. I hardly see Logan all day. By the time evening comes I find I’m exhausted. It’s tiring being out with people all day. I’ve always been an introvert and all this time spent in a crowd has left me frazzled and fatigued. I still want to go on our date tonight, but I wonder where I’ll find the energy. 

Back in my room I begin to dress for the date. I take out one of my three dresses, a black halter top dress with a pencil skirt. It has an open back and is honestly very unsuitable given my powers. It shows far too much skin to be safe. Luckily I have a shrug and elbow length gloves to match. I leave the accessories sitting on my bed while I try to do something with my long black hair. I settle on a style that leaves most of my hair hanging loose in the back with only a couple of silver hair combs to keep it out of my way in the front. I don’t feel nearly ready when the knock sounds at my door. 

“You look...amazing.” Logan says as I open the door. 

I am blushing as I reach for my gloves on the bed. “Thank you.” 

“Leave those, you won’t need them.” He says and I stop short of picking them up. 

“Where are we going?” I wonder where we could possibly be going that I won’t need to take gloves for everyone else’s safety. 

“You’ll see.” He says. 

He puts a hand on my bare back to escort me from the room. I decide that this dress was a good idea after all. I walk with him down the hallway and he stops in front of a door I recognize to be Scott Summers’ room. Logan knocks and Scott wrenches the door open. 

“Keys?” Logan asks him. 

Scott isn’t even looking at Logan. His gaze, behind those sunglasses, is turned in my direction. “Your date is with Rosa?” Scott finally finds his tongue. 

“Yeah, so can I borrow the car or not?” Logan asks. 

“Yeah. Sure.” Scott takes the keys from his pocket and passes them to Logan., his gaze hardly leaving me all the while. 

As we walk away from him, I realize that Logan could have gotten the keys from Scott before he came to pick me up. He probably did it this way on purpose to remind Scott of what he couldn’t have. I’m not upset about that. Just curious. I wonder what happened between the two of them in the past that they would behave like this? 

Logan takes me to an Italian place that seems to be totally empty except for kitchen staff and one waiter. That’s why he said I wouldn’t need the gloves. Did he somehow managed to clear out an entire restaurant just for me? I am honestly overwhelmed by that. I hadn’t expected him to go to so much trouble. Halfway through the meal I can take the mystery no longer. 

“It’s really nice here. How did you manage to find a place so quiet?” I ask him. 

“I made a few calls.” He says with a shrug. 

So it’s true. He cleared out the place for me. That can’t have been cheap. “You’re too nice to me.” I say, meaning every word of that. 

“I’m honestly a little worried that I can’t ever be nice enough.” He tells me. 

His words are both flattering and confusing. “Of course you can.” I say with a small smile. “I’m not that difficult to please.” 

“What I mean is, I don’t deserve someone like you.” He says. “If it weren’t for this immunity thing….” 

I realize that he believes I only like him because he’s the only person available to me. 

“It’s not like that.” I say, gently protesting. 

“Not like what? Not like you’re used to a completely different standard of living than I can even afford? Or like you could fit in with the Opera and Symphony crowds and I belong at a bar with a bunch of guys drinking beer? I like you Rosa. I really do, but we aren’t the same.” He tells me. 

“I suppose we aren’t.” I admit a little sadly. “If you were worried about that, why did you ask me here?” 

“If you didn’t have your powers, would you have even come?” He asks me.


	12. Chapter 12

“Yes.” I answer the question without hesitation. “You forget that I grew up on a farm. You’re not so different from Eugene or from the sort of man I’d thought I’d end up with before I got my powers...if you’re trying to say that you think I am too sophisticated...you should know that the big house, the designer shoes, the cash in my vault...I only have all that because I was trying to make up for things that I never can have… they aren’t really me…” 

“That’s good to know. I still don’t think I would have ever asked you if not for all this. I wouldn’t have expected you’d say yes.” He says. 

“I’m not that much of a snob.” I say with a bit of a laugh. 

“No, you’re not.” He agrees. “You’re just out of me league.” 

“I don’t think you’re looking at this from the right perspective.” I say. 

“Oh, and what is the right perspective?” He says, he sounds a little amused. 

“Maybe you think I only came here because I don’t have the option of coming with anyone else, but neither do you really, not if you’re looking for something stable.” I say. 

“How do you figure?” He asks, not sure where I’m heading with my statement. 

“Who else do you know who’s going to live as long as you will?” I say. 

He seems a little surprised by my question. “Right. Good point.” He says. “I don’t know anyone who I’m not gonna eventually outlive. Except for you apparently.” 

“Except for me.” I smile a little at having proven my point. He needs me as much as I need him. Almost as much anyway. “You know, I don’t even know how old you are.” I say. 

“Older than you.” He tells me. “I was already old by the time you were born in ‘32.” 

I feel a little worried that he might not care for my being so much younger than him but I don’t voice that worry. “So all of your family...?” 

“Gone.” he tells me. 

I nod. “My brother George is still alive in Lincoln Maine.” I tell him. “He’s eighty years old now. I haven’t seen him though, and I won’t.” 

“You couldn’t at least write him a letter?” He asks. 

“If I did, he might want to see me. I can’t let him do that.” I say. 

“You could always warn him ahead of time. It seems like it might be a mistake to not let your last living family be in your life.” Logan says. 

I know he has made a good point. I’m just not ready to risk letting another brother get close to me. “Maybe, I’ll have to think about it.” I say. 

We finish our meal and the conversation turns to old movies and our favorite foods and some of our favorite music from the 1960s. We actually aren’t so different as he had thought. There is music playing in the restaurant Logan asks me if I want to dance. 

“I’m actually not so good at dancing.” I tell him. 

“Me either.” He says. 

“Okay then, but don’t be surprised if I step on your feet.” 

It isn’t much of a dance. He holds me close to him and both his hands are on my back. I move close enough to let my head rest against his shoulder. 

“God… you’re beautiful.” He breathes the words. 

I hope that he doesn’t notice the tears in my eyes at his words but he notices anyway and he brushes the tears away with his thumb. Then he is kissing me again, slowly and gently, his hands are caressing the skin on my back. Then the music ends and we realize the restaurant is closing. I go with Logan to the counter to pay our bill. 

“I could pay half.” I offer. 

“I don’t think so.” Logan says. I knew he would refuse. He’s an old fashioned sort of guy. Even so, I had to offer. I had to try being modern and equal and all that.

We get back into Scott’s car and I finally ask him about what the deal is with him and Scott. I know there’s some sort of history between them and it isn’t necessarily a good one. Logan tells me about Jean Grey, a woman who had been Scott’s girlfriend and whom he himself had loved until he had been forced to kill her. The story saddens me and reminds me of something out of my own past. We really aren’t so different after all. 

Logan kisses me goodnight when we get back to my room. I’m not sure if I should just let him go or if I should invite him stay. I want him to stay. God, I want him to stay more than anything. Being close to him is intoxicating and comforting and exhilarating all at once. I don’t want to go sleep in my cold empty bed when I know that he’s only three rooms away. But I’ve never been with a man before and I’m honestly too nervous to ask him to stay. So I let him go.


	13. Chapter 13

I am in the statue garden once again. I walk past my father with his crate of potatoes. My twin brothers are frozen wrestling as before. Mama is holding baby George this time. And Stuart is a living old man, not yet a statue. 

“Don’t…” Stuart says to me. “You shouldn’t. Just don’t. Don’t!” 

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” I say. I won’t go near him this time. I won’t let him die. 

“It’s too late for me.” Stuart says. “It’s not too late for him.” He points to somewhere behind me. I turn and find Logan standing there. Logan kisses me. He pulls away from and gazes down at me with half a smile. Then his face starts to turn gray and the smile slowly fades. 

“No…” I take a step back from him but I know that it’s already too late. Logan has fallen to the ground. The transformation has already begun. “Nooooooooo!!!” 

I am sitting upright in my bed gasping for breath. It was only a dream. My room is empty and dead quiet. I guess I didn’t scream out loud this time. I sit there trying to catch my breath and slow my racing heart. I climb out of bed and put on a robe over my chemise nightgown. It’s 2AM and I’m pretty sure everyone is asleep. Against my better judgement I go out of my room and make my way to Logan’s door. It isn’t locked. I’m very quiet opening the door but he has especially good hearing and he wakes up anyway. 

“Rosa?” He asks, sitting up on his elbow. 

“I had one of my nightmares again.” I say, closing the door behind me. “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not be alone.” 

“Of course it’s alright.” He slides over on the bed to make room for me. 

The space he makes for me on the bed is already warm. He reaches for me pulls me close to him for a real embrace. He is shirtless. My body is flush against his and his arms are wrapped snugly around me. I’ve never been this close to a man in all my life. The sensation is unquestionably even more blissful than his kisses had been. He is warm and safe and I am so utterly content that I soon fall into a relaxed sleep. 

I awaken in the morning I find myself curled up on the bed reaching for him. He isn’t there. The bed is empty. I am alone in his bed and today is the day we’re supposed to get the test results from the lab. Everything I have been afraid of in the past few days all comes crashing to the surface. I am alone. I have been completely and thoroughly alone for the past sixteen years. I am going to be alone forever. I will always live in a world where no one touches me. I can not expect that Logan will even want to be with me when he could have anyone. It’s just a matter of time before I am back in my prison of never having human contact again. The hardest part is never knowing which touch is going to be the last one. Will it be the hug he gave me last night? Will Ororo come give us test results after breakfast and that will be the end? Or will it happen later when he finds someone more like Jean Gray than I can ever be? I am so terrified that I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m being choked. I feel like there is weight on my chest keeping me from taking my next breath but I continue to struggle to take breaths anyway. 

“Rosa?” Logan rushes over to me from the bathroom. “Are you okay?” 

Still struggling to breathe, I grab his arm and pull him close enough to sit on the bed. I crawl across the bed and throw myself into his arms on his lap. Even with his arms around me it takes me several minutes to compose myself. 

“What just happened?” Logan asks me once I am calm. 

“I just panicked. I’m sorry.” I tell him. 

“But I don’t understand why.” He says. 

“I have panic attacks sometimes.” I try to explain. “I started to have one in the car on the way here. I had them lots of times living alone.” 

“I’d think you’d have fewer of them now, being with people again and all…” Logan says. “Is there something you’re still afraid of?” 

“Yes.” I whisper. 

“What is it?” He asks, concerned. 

“I’m afraid of that inevitable moment when I go back to my prison of isolation.” I say. Logan looks confused so I trudge on with more words. “I don’t know how to tell you without sounding pathetic but honestly I’m terrified...terrified of having to go back to not being able to touch anyone or be touched. I keep thinking that it will either be the test results or some other girl or we’ll have a huge argument… but something will happen...I just keep wondering which touch is going to be the last one.” I say, barely able to choke back my tears. 

“This won’t be the last time.” He tells me, his hand on my bare shoulder. “I shouldn’t have left you alone this morning. I’m sure that didn’t help...but this isn’t gonna be the last time. I’m gonna touch you again, lots more times in the future. And unless you turn out to be some sort of evil villain then I’m not going anywhere. We’re both gonna live a long time and I can at the very least promise you I’ll stay your friend all that time. Maybe more.” 

“Thank you.” I say, and I’m crying in his arms. They are tears of relief because he has just offered me something I have needed for a long time. Stability. 

A knock sounds at the door of his room. 

“Logan?” It’s Ororo. “If you’re in there I thought you should know that we have your test results.” 

“Yeah, be right there.” He says. “You should go get dressed. I’ll walk with you to the lab.” 

“I think you’ll have to.” I say. “I’m not sure I can walk there by myself.”


	14. Chapter 14

Ororo is waiting for us in the lab. Hank McCoy is there too. He’s been working on analyzing my blood and since he’s the doctor he’ll give us our results. Ororo has been helping him in the lab sometimes though. She does a little of everything in this school. To my eye, she looks a little worried. Logan squeezed my hand and it helps to ground me and keep me from lapsing into panic momentarily. 

“We have good news and not so good news.” She tells us. 

“The good news is, “Hank tells us, “It appears that Logan heals at a rate five times faster than Rosa’s powers can affect him. I would say that contact is perfectly safe.” 

I let out the breath I’ve been holding since we came in here. My relief is making me start to cry. 

“And the bad news?” Logan asked warily. 

“I had hoped that with a sample of Rosa’s blood I could make an antidote.” Hank said sadly. “It would be an antidote that would stop the metamorphosis in any person that she might accidentally touch. She would have to carry it with her in case she needed it. This antidote might still be possible but it’s not something I can synthesize here. I’ve had to send for help at a London lab. It will take several months before they can tell us anything.” 

“Oh, well that’s not so bad.” I say. “I had never considered the possibility of an antidote…” 

I had considered the possibility of a cure. There had once been a cure available. I had wanted to go and get the cure the moment I knew about it. Then I turned on the TV and saw the crowds of people lined up to get the cure and to protest it. I couldn’t help but wonder how many people would die if I tried to enter that crowd. So I waited. I waited for the hype to die down, for the lines to grow shorter, for the crowds to clear out so I could go when it was safer. And then the cure wasn’t available anymore. 

“Is it true that the mutant cure is gone for good?” I ask. 

Hank sighs. “It’s true. The fact is, the cure didn’t work. It was only temporary.” 

Logan walks with me back to my room so I can get ready for breakfast and for classes. As I open the door to my room he catches a glimpse inside and sees that my bags are sitting on a chair next to the bed, still waiting to be unpacked. 

“I take it you haven’t quite decided if you’re staying?” He asks me. 

“It’s not that.” I say. I’m not ready to tell him that some part of me had hoped I wouldn’t be staying in the room alone for much longer. I know it’s too soon to expect to share a room with him. I’ll just have to deal with my loneliness a little while longer. 

“Right. Given the state of your living room at your house, I imagine you hate organizing stuff.” 

“That’s true.” I say with smile. “It’s not so much that I hate organizing as it is that there’s always something better to do. Like read a book or play the piano… why waste my time with putting things in order?” 

“Some people like order. It comforts them somehow.” He says. 

“Are you one of those people?” I ask, because if he is, I don’t think there’s any way I can live up to that. 

“I don’t care much either way.” He says with a shrug. 

“Good.” I say, slightly relieved. 

“Do you think you ever will unpack?” He asks me. 

“Not until…” My thought was that I didn’t want to unpack to live in another empty lonely room. I was holding on to the hope of not being alone. Especially after last night.

“Right. Not until you aren’t alone.” He says. I am a little surprised at how well he reads me sometimes. He takes a key out of his pocket and places it in my hand. “I usually lock my room at night. I have nightmares too and I don’t want to accidentally stab anyone. I left it unlocked last night in case you showed up. As far as I’m concerned you can show up anytime.” 

I close my fingers over the key in the palm of my hand. I understand that this isn’t an invitation to move into his room with him. This only means that he wants me to come to him if I have nightmares or if I’m lonely. “Thank you.” I say. The key means a lot to me. 

“I have a class to teach.” He says. He gives me a quick kiss and then he is gone.


	15. Chapter 15

I hardly see Logan all day. Between classes and studying and the new friendships I am beginning to form, I am kept very busy. My newest friend is Ruth Aldine. She joins me for lunch for the second day in a row. 

“We’re going to be friends you know?” She had said the previous day when she sat down to lunch with me. “I can see what will happen before it does. We’re going to be best friends.” I didn’t question it. Not in a place like this. 

“Hi Ruth.” I say as she sits down next to me again. 

“Hi Rosa. Did you sign up for a combat class yet?”: She asks me. Yesterday she had suggested I sign up for combat classes and I had brushed off the suggestion. Logan is the combat instructor. It just felt like it would be weird to take his class. I would be terrible at combat and I don’t want to embarrass myself. 

“No, not yet.” I say. 

“Listen,” She says with a sigh. “I know that you think you won’t be a good fighter. I know you don’t think you will need to fight or that you want to learn from Logan given how you feel about him…” She says and I try not to let this use of her telepathy bother me. “But if you don’t, a lot of people are gonna die.” 

“What? What are you talking about?” I ask her, confused. 

“Before you came here, I had a dream.” Ruth says. “I can’t tell you the details. I can only tell you that it is vital for all of mutant kind that you learn how to fight.” 

“You’re not serious.” I say, my stomach has begun to twist with anxiety. I hardly know Ruth but I know enough about her to know that people trust in her precognition. 

“What’s going to happen? Who am I going to fight?” I ask her. 

She shakes her head. “It’s better if you don’t know. But don’t worry, you have a while longer to prepare.” 

I try not to let her words worry me too much but by mid afternoon I have convinced myself that I do need to sign up for Logan’s class after all. He sits next to me at the evening meal and asks me about it. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to take a combat class just yet?” He asks. 

“I wasn’t. Ruth Aldine told me I had to or a lot of people were going to die.” I say, still shaken by what she has told me. 

“What? Did she tell you any more than that?” He asks. He looks stunned. 

“No. She said it was better if I didn’t know.” I tell him. 

“Well, if there’s some threat to you, I need to know what it is.” He says. He gets up and crosses the room to find Ruth. 

I don’t follow him. Maybe she’ll tell Logan details that she wouldn’t share with me. I watch them talking for a few minutes. It looks more like arguing. Actually it looks like the argument is getting heated. Then it ends and he comes back to me looking visibly disturbed. 

“Well?” I ask him. “What did she say?” 

“It was all very vague. Something about a future evil and doom and somehow you’re part of it. Whatever it is, she doesn’t want us to know.” He says, frustrated. 

“Do you think it’s true?” I ask him. 

“Ruth has never been wrong before.” He says sadly. “So I guess you’d better take that class.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty Chapter here.

Late that night I awaken to the sound of footsteps in the hallway. There are several students out there talking in quiet voices and whispers. I get up, put on a robe and go out there to see what is happening. There teens are gathered outside of Logan’s door. A few more stand outside their rooms across the hall. Then I hear it, the sound of Logan slashing up the bed and blankets with his claws. 

“Professor Logan is having another nightmare.” One of the girls tells me. “We tried knocking on the door. What should we do?” 

Scott Summers comes out of his room just then to see what the commotion is all about. “He’s having another nightmare?” He sighs. “Last time we had refurnish the whole room.” 

I turn and take the key he gave me from off of my dresser. “Go back to bed, I’ll take care of it.” 

“He doesn’t always wake up. He could stab you.” Scott protests. 

“I’ll heal.” I say. The students all disperse and Scott lingers a little longer, watching me unlock the door. 

“You shouldn’t have to be with a guy who can hurt you like that.” Scott says as I turn the lock. 

“He won’t hurt me.” I say. 

“He’d better not.” Scott looks skeptical but he backs away anyhow and goes back to his room. 

I slip inside the room and close the door behind me. There are slashes cut into the mattress and there are feathers floating around the room from the down pillow that he sliced open. 

“Logan?” I say from the doorway. I know I would heal if he did cut me but I really don’t enjoy the idea of being stabbed. I’m keeping my distance for now. “Logan, wake up.” 

He does. He sits upright with a something akin to a roar. His claws are out as if he’s ready to fight. He sees me standing there in the doorway and his breathing begins to steady. His claws retract and I go to him. I let my robe drop the the floor and I climb into the bed next to him. He hugs me so tight that it almost hurts. I can’t say that I mind. The next thing I know his hands are in my hair, his lips are against mine and we are lying down in the bed. 

He rests his hand on my thigh. My chemise is short enough that my skin is bare there. His hand slides under the hem until it rests on my bare backside, never breaking the kiss. He pulls my center close to his and I can feel his hardness pressed against me. A moan escapes me. I may have never been with a man before but I’m not entirely naive about what is to come. I have pleasured myself before. I want this, more than anything. It seems he does too. He pulls my nightgown off over my head, only momentarily breaking the kiss and I slip a finger underneath the waistband of his shorts. 

We are both unclothed and the sensation of so much skin against my own is more overwhelming and erotic than I had ever imagined it would be. His hands are all over me. Caressing down my back, my hips, my breasts. Then he moves from kissing my lips to gently kissing my neck. Then further down to my shoulder. He takes my nipple in his mouth and I gasp at the sensation. His hand is resting on my inner thigh and I shift so that he’ll touch me where I so desperately need him to. He does and I moan more loudly than I intended to. 

He gently pushes my shoulder so that I am lying flat on my back and he moves on top of me, resting most of his weight on his elbows. I try to shift my center closer to him. I am desperate to have him inside me at this point. He thrusts inside me very slowly and we both cry out. It feels tighter and more uncomfortable than I had expected but not at all something I want to end. I want him. I want to keep doing this. He is slowly thrusting into me again and this time I am moving with him. It is struggle to remain quiet. The walls are thin here. Anyone might hear us and what I am feeling is so amazing that the last thing I want is to be silent. I manage it anyway. I move with him, my hands digging into his back as we move. His movements become faster and it’s as difficult for him to keep quiet as it is for me. He bites back a few grunts. Somehow I like the sounds he’s making. They only make me more desperate. Our movements have become frenzied. The bed is creaking. And then I feel it, an explosion of pleasure far better than any I could have given myself. Logan continues for a few more thrusts. He moans and goes still on top of me. 

I think he has either fallen asleep or forgotten that his adamantium skeleton makes him heavier than regular men. I feel as if I’m being crushed beneath him. “Logan?” I have to gasp the word out because I can hardly get any air. 

“Sorry!”: He says and lifts himself off of me. “Sorry” He says a second time from on his side next to me. 

“It’s alright.” I say, and I cuddle closer to him. That was well worth being crushed for a few seconds.


	17. Chapter 17

I enjoy waking up in Logan’s bed. He isn’t hugging me anymore but he’s on his side facing me with with one hand on my arm. Even that is welcome contact. I smile to myself and reach for my clothes on the floor. I can hear people out in the hallway. They are walking and talking and rushing off to breakfast and classes. I glance at the clock to find out if the reason for so much noise might be that I’ve overslept and I find that the alarm clock on the nightstand is broken. Logan must broken it during his nightmare. 

“Logan?” I gently shake him awake and then resume getting on my nightgown. “We’re late.” 

He wakes up and takes a watch from the nightstand drawer. “Breakfast starts ten minutes ago.” He says. He quickly throws on his clothes. 

I am wearing my robe and standing near the door to his room, hesitant to go out. He finishes buttoning his shirt and notices my hesitation. I realize that he might assume that I don’t want to let people see me coming out of his room. “It’s not that.” I say. “It’s not about us...it’s about the clothes.” I hadn’t realized night how little skin my robe actually covered. My arms are covered but it doesn’t tie fully shut in the front. And I hadn’t noticed the way the satin fabric clung to my skin. Now I’m wondering if this slinky robe was the reason that Scott lingered so long in the hallway last night. I don’t care if Scott looks at me or if anyone else does for that matter. I’ve spent most of my life keeping people distant and there have times that I’ve managed to do it all the while wearing a mini skirt. What I don’t want, is to become the source of an argument between Scott and Logan. I dislike conflict and I hate being the cause of it. The last few mornings, Scott has been late to breakfast, which means I could easily meet him in the hallway if I go out there like this.

Logan doesn’t ask for an explanation. “Wait here.” He says. He leaves the room and comes back momentarily with both of my bags. He places them on the bed and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I dress quickly and then join him to brush my own teeth. 

We go to the dining room for breakfast and are soon joined by Hank McCoy. He takes a seat across from us. 

“Morning Logan. Rosa.” He says to each of us. 

“Morning Hank.” Logan says. 

“I was up late last night and I discovered something that you two should know about.” He tells us. 

“What did you discover?” I ask, he seems wary and that worries me. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this without awkwardness...but I assume the two of you are… a couple?” Hank asks. 

“Yeah.” Logan says. 

“The truth is, I keep a database on the DNA of everyone here and of many other mutants that we have come in contact with. It’s not something sanctioned by the school. It’s one of my own projects.” He says quietly but there is no one else at our end of the table to overhear him anyway. 

“What are you up to, Hank?” Logan asks him. 

“We already have a mutant classification system which classifies us according to ability and traits. I wanted to take that a step further and find out how different powers might affect one another in a battle and how traits might mix in family planning. I mean, if two mutants marry and their genes were going to give them blue children, they might want to know about that.” Hank says. 

“Are you saying you discovered something that will happen if…?” I don’t want to mention the idea of Logan and I having children but I know that’s what he means. 

“Yes. You both have a healing factor and that would be passed on to any children. Rosa’s Medusa gene has a fifty percent chance of being passed on, but you probably could have guessed that. What you don’t know is that Rosa has a recessive gene, one that I’ve never seen before but if I’m right, it would be a power of implosion.” Hank says. 

“So rather than turning things to stone, they would implode?” I ask worriedly. 

“I believe so.” Hank says. “And I’m afraid that if that were the case, when the child came of age for the powers to manifest, neither of your healing factors could save from implosion.” 

“Thank you for telling us.” I say. I am saddened by this news but I had long ago accepted that I would never have children. This changes nothing. It only means we have to be more careful to take preventative measures. 

Hank finishes his breakfast with us and we talk about other things. Then he leaves us to go back to the lab and Logan leaves to teach his class. I have an hour before my class begins. I see Ruth Aldine across the room and I know exactly how I need to spend the next hour.


End file.
